> What is it with people liking a specific language

What is it with shaming people for preferring a specific language where it is applicable?

For some reason I can like a brand of electric drill, and I can believe in using a nailgun, but I am not allowed to like a specific language without someone coming along to scold me.

If you don't ever develop opinions about tools and how to use them, are you really engaged or are you just floating along? Liking something is a good sign of engagement, being able to compare it to others in an informed way is even better. The problem is if you put other things down without knowing about them.

What is it with people missing the point so many times in a row? Hence why I said "learn how you can use languages together and for the right purpose"—but I don't believe it should be the primary focus.

When you buy a drill, the main purpose is to make holes in things. When you buy a nailgun, the main purpose is to stick things together. One might do it better, one might do it faster, and yes, it's useful to know those things. But you're still building a house, not an opinion about a drill or a nailgun.

Ever notice how professionals treat their tools, versus amateurs? Photographers are a great example. Amateur photographers are all about cameras and lenses and tools. They buy gear like there was no tomorrow, and they do very little actual photography. Some of them make it past this phase and change their focus to what photography is really about (light, subject, timing) but most don't.

Professional photographers buy cameras for one purpose: because they get the shot. They buy lenses for one purpose: because they get the shot. And they buy everything else they need for one purpose: because it gets the shot. Their focus is the photograph and everything else follows. Of course there is some thought of what lens is right for what job, and what camera works best for what needs, and durability and portability especially; but mostly they use what works because they know it well and it gets the shot. And some pros use the most ridiculous gear that you'd never expect because it works so well for their particular goals.

There was an article a while back about a Iraq war journalist who used only Olympus 6MP zoom cameras made 5-6 years ago because they were workhorses, extremely portable, and held up to desert conditions. Non-pros probably thought he was crazy and dumb, but he got the shots. He shipped. You have seen his photos in the news, guaranteed. Talking about that gear out of context, it would make zero sense. But for the situation, it was perfect, because he focused on the task and not the gear.

I'm not scolding anyone, I'm not criticizing a choice of language; I'm saying, focus on the right part of your task. The tool is important, but the task is more important. That's exactly what the original article was saying, too, if you'll kindly go back and take note.

Beautiful comparison with photography and well said. And I would like to know the answer to this one: "What is it with people missing the point so many times in a row?" too. It's not like it's hard to understand or that there are few explanations out there.

I suspect many things and have many theories, but I'd be happy if someone concisely summarized different possible causes of such a behaviour of amateur programmers (and/or photographers). My "they're just noobs" doesn't cut it, because it may well be a description of effect and not the cause (I suspect it is).

Oh I understand it well, I think. I went through phases such as this in both photography and other fields. I sort of skipped it in programming thanks to a theoretical CS education, and being told constantly "the language doesn't matter" throughout my learning phase.

I think you're always striving for higher quality at the beginning. You always want to skip over the developing mastery part right into mastery, but it never works that way. So you take shortcuts, and you see that they have effects. To continue with the photography example, if you buy a more expensive lens, for a while it looks like your photographs are getting better. On the surface, they improve. They're smoother, sharper, with better color; whatever. For a while, you think that's what photography is all about, the quality of the image, the lust for higher and higher quality.

We do the same thing in programming. You learn a language. It lets you do stuff. But then you learn a different language and it just seems so much better in the areas you believe are important right then. On the surface, it's easier to code in and easier to understand and it results in more polished code, or faster, or it lets you do things in a way that seems cool. You think "why would anyone ever use Old Language when they could use New Language?" You build lots of cool things and no one uses them but they're cool anyway.

In both fields, the beginner is just learning their tools. It's important to go through that phase in photography, because you learn that lenses and cameras and flashes and gear really do make the result different. The mistake is thinking they make the result better. Because better has many different meanings that are deeper than the surface level that the gear can affect. Same with programming: you make this mistake that New Language is better because it does XYZ better, without realizing that what you're actually building has a deeper meaning than just what the language does better. That it actually takes a lot of different languages, or that Old Language might actually be a better choice because you don't need XYZ, you need ABC. Or something.

It's the difference between mastery and the illusion of mastery or the desire for mastery, and it's the process of learning what tools are for and why they're important, before realizing that they're only important on the surface: as a means to an end. It's an attempt for quality before mastery, which has a limit.

Once you have mastery though, if you've got all the other parts right, then chances are you're going to choose the right language. Language isn't unimportant because it's not important (it is); it's unimportant because if you have everything else right, then the choice of language follows naturally. It's not a concern. It's an afterthought that a true master will already have the answer for.

This is why if you go up to a professional photographer and ask them what kind of camera and lens they're using, they'll just give you a quizzical look and roll their eyes. In their head, the answer is obvious. "The right one."

Will they still be attached to their gear? Of course. Will they still prefer what they're used to? Of course. But they have no illusion that it means anything more than that.

In the end, the photographer in the right place at the right time with the right light still wins, regardless of the gear—even though he still has the right gear. And in the end, the programmer with the right project and the right customers with the right need still wins, regardless of the language—even though that programmer has probably already chosen the right language.

I really love the comparison to photography. It's good to remember that no one tool is perfect for every job and that new doesn't mean better.

That said, it's also good to remember that there's nothing wrong with loving your languages as long as you reasonably avoid bias and don't let it stop you from trying new languages and ideas.